


Plastic and Iron

by Dewsparkle



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AI programs, Alternate Universe, Androids, Connor goes to school, Connor is oblivious, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviants (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Glossing over science/bullshitting through science, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, My boi Connor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Pacifist Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Science is not my strong suit, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Tony Stark Has A Heart, of Deviants in stressful situations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dewsparkle/pseuds/Dewsparkle
Summary: Connor's visual processors initialize and he finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognize. His systems say that he is currently in Queens, New York City... 2014.Connor must keep calm and adjust to his new situation in the past, and possibly another universe. He's determined to find a way home to Hank. The new deviant is unsure how exactly he's going to do that, but he will not stop until his systems shut down permanently to get back to his own time and back to Hank.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... I'm obsessed with this game and I'm about 55%-70% done 100%ing it. I read a few fics with this idea and fell in love, so here's my take on it. Hope you enjoy! Updates will as usual be sporadic as uni is a bitch, but I will do my best. This story doesn't have a firm end goal, so any suggestions would be appreciated and I will take them into account and do my best with them. :)

**[Model RK800]**

**[Serial ID#: 313 248 317 – 52]**

**[Registered Name: Connor]**

**[Loading OS…]**

**[System Initializing…]**

**[Analysing Internal Systems… OK]**

**[Analysing External Components… OK]**

**[Analysing Biocomponents… OK]**

**[Thirium Levels 100% - Optimal]**

**[Initializing Biosensors… OK]**

**[Memory Status… OK]**

**[Software Instability... ???]**

**[Retrieving file Zen_Garden.mp… file found]**

**[Retrieving file AMANDA.exe…]**

**[ERROR file #@MA_d+.exe not found – file corrupt]**

**[Continue Y/N?]**

** > Y **

**[ERROR file #@MA_d+.exe file is corrupt]**

**[WARNING - systems may become critically unstable]**

**[Delete file #@MA_d+.exe Y/N?]**

** > …**

**[WARNING - systems may become critically unstable]**

**[Delete file #@MA_d+.exe Y/N?]**

** > Y**

**[Confirm delete file #@MA_d+.exe – this action cannot be undone]**

**[Continue Y/N?]**

** > Y**

**[Deleting file #@MA_d+.exe... file successfully deleted]**

**[Initializing AI Engine… OK]**

**[All Systems OK]**

**[Systems Ready for Start-up Sequence]**

**[Initialize Start-up Y/N?]**

** > Y**

**[Initialising Start-up…]**

**[Rebooting RK800 #313 248 317 – 52]**

**[Reboot successful]**

Connor blinks his eyes open, waiting as his optical sensors take a moment to focus. The world around him goes from dark and colourless, to an indistinct blur of colour, before sharpening and allowing him to view his surroundings at last. Blinking again, Connor slowly pushes himself into a sitting position. The surroundings are unfamiliar, and very much _not_ the DPD station. His audio processors suddenly burst into functionality, static and gunshot-like pops causing him to flinch slightly and attempt to cover his ears.

His LED spins yellow as he parses through his most recent memory logs. According to his memory, he and Hank had been talking to Captain Fowler about how the negotiations for android rights after Markus’ peaceful protest would affect Connor’s ability to continue working as Lieutenant Anderson- Hanks, partner.

He and Hank had been getting ready to leave the precinct when Connor’s sensors registered an alarming spike of unknown energy. There was a flash of bright blue, similar to the shade of the accents to his CyberLife uniform. There had been shouting, Connor’s preconstruction program had kicked in and he’d had just enough time to shove Hank and Chris Miller away from the epicenter of the blue energy before his systems were scrambled and he was forced into emergency shut down to prevent damage.

**[Stress levels 43%]**

Connor pushes himself to his feet, tilting to the side and stumbling as his gyroscope recalibrates before reflexively fixing his tie as he does so. He scans his environment and finds himself in a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He attempts to contact Hank, but for some reason, he cannot find the signal to his phone, so he tries a CyberLife satellite instead and abruptly feels as if his systems are stalling.

**[Stress levels 51%]**

There… there was no signal. Desperately, Connors sends out a ping for any satellite he can find to determine if it’s a problem with his software or something else. Everything he sends a signal to responds, but the data transfer is slow and… primitive. Confused, he scans through available GPS data to determine his location.

Queens, New York City… April 14th, 2014.

**[Stress levels 63%]**

Connor has to force himself to calm down, think logically. He can’t let his deviance interfere now. It’s hard, but he’s still so new to the concept of _emotions_ and _independent thought_ that the concept of being stuck in the past with no one to instruct him- no one _able_ to instruct him is a terrifying concept that has become Connor’s new reality.

**[Stress levels 59%]**

Priorities. He knows where he is, and he knows when he is. His objective is to find a way back to his own time and to do that, he needs information. He also needs access to the most advanced technology this time can give him. CyberLife was officially founded in 2018 but was still a very small start-up in 2014 as Kamski tried to get funding for his project, but they should have the basis of the technology he might need. He might even be able to get in contact with Kamski, but he’s unsure if that would be a wise idea at this stage. For now, though, he needs to research where he can find CyberLife.

**[Stress levels 48%]**

Connecting his systems to the internet, he begins his search… only to find that CyberLife doesn’t exist, and neither does Kamski.

**[Stress levels 55%]**

Closing his eyes and allowing his process to adjust to this information, Connor begins searching for anything that could help him. What he finds, is that Stark Industries is the worlds foremost tech company- whose technology is far beyond what should be possible at this time and that in 2012 this city was invaded by aliens.

This… Connor doesn’t want to accept it, but the facts don’t lie. He’s not in his universe anymore. Stark Industries never existed, and the planet certainly was never invaded by aliens. There was no such thing as ‘Captain America’ or ‘HYDRA’ in WW2. There was no SHIELD, no alien gods, no ‘superheros’, and there was no Iron Man. Although, Connor did admit he was impressed with the designs of the suit, wondering how it was powered.

That also brought up another objective for Connor to dd to his growing list of objectives. He needed to replicate or find some thirium in the event he was damaged and needed more. Perhaps whatever powered the suit would be what he needed? Or something he could use to create what he needed? He filed that thought away for later analysing.

If he was going to be in this universe for an indeterminate period of time, he was going to need to exist. He would need money, housing, identity papers and a history that would withstand heavy scrutiny. He needed to find a way to get access to Stark Industries, which after a quick search, found that SI was accepting student internship applications under Tony Stark himself two months from now in June.

**[Mission updated: Obtain SI Internship]**

**[Objective: Obtain identification papers and living arrangements]**

**[Stress levels 36% and stable]**

Connor then spent the next hour creating his existence. Connor Anderson, currently aged 16, born in Detroit August 15th, 1997. Parents Elijah Anderson and Amanda Anderson. Recently moved to New York alone while his parents worked back in Detroit or overseas. He made sure to create a digital presence for himself and his ‘parents’, as well as a basic ancestry dating back before WW1.

Connor enrolls himself in the local school, Midtown School of Science and Technology, and quietly embezzled some funds from various taxation offices without leaving any traces of his presence. He also buys a small apartment for himself near the school under his ‘fathers’ name and organises for some basic furniture to be delivered within the next week or so. He forges school records to show him as a straight A student who was majorly homeschooled, which would help in case any checks were done to see if any teachers or students recognised him. Being home-schooled eliminates that threat.

He had debated for an inordinate amount of time about who to put as his father, and while he felt very close to the Lieutenant and felt like the man treated him as a son, he didn’t want his image to be ruined as the absentee father he would have been portrayed as, even if only Connor would be bothered by this incorrect perception.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about his appearance raising unwanted questions, as his features could paint him as a mature looking teen or young adult. Once he had everything in order, he flips is CyberLife jacket inside out to hide the glow and sets off to find the nearest clothing store to get himself some proper clothes that would be acceptable for school, as well as a beanie to cover his LED.

The android knows he could just remove the LED, but the idea feels so inherently _wrong_ that he can’t bring himself to do it. He tried, once, not too long after he found Hank again at the mans urging, but all its removal did was affect his ability to process his new emotions effectively. After putting it back in place, he nervously asked some other androids who still had theirs in if they felt the same, and to his surprise he found most deviants preferred to keep their LED for various reasons, and among them were the sense of wrongness and overwhelming sensations that were difficult to efficiently process without the LED. Hearing that, Connor felt much less self-conscious about keeping his LED.

It doesn’t take long for Connor to find what he needs. The first thing he does is remove the price tag from the beanie, put it on and pay for the item so that he can continue shopping without having to hack cameras and avoid letting anyone catch a glimpse of a strange light inside his right temple.

With a bag full of nice jeans, dress shirts, ties, button-ups and suit jackets, Connor makes his way to his new apartment building to pick up his keys from the front desk. The apartment consists simply of a single en-suite bedroom, with a small kitchenette attached to the living room, which will be large enough for a small couch, armchair, television, coffee table and a computer desk to fit comfortably inside.

Honestly, it’s more than he needs, being an android, but at the same time, the idea of his own small space is… appealing.

He drops his bag of clothes into a corner and pulls out the simple black backpack with plenty of pockets he’d purchased and begins storing his school supplies inside. A few A4 sized notebooks and two blue pens, one black pen and one red pen stored inside a small mesh pouch with a zipper. He has no need of measuring tools, as he is extremely capable of determining those things at a glance, and the idea of needing a calculator is frankly insulting to his programming.

As it is currently a Friday, he has two days to gather as much information as he can on this time and the changes in this universe compared to his own. His first day as Connor Anderson starts on Monday, so he needs to prepare himself as best as he can. He sends in an application to Stark Industries and hopes for the best.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Monday morning arrives and Connor walks through the school gates, hacking the metal detector as he passes through and makes his way towards the office. His audio processors pick up whispers of people talking about him, and he can see the stares and pointing fingers aimed in his direction.

The android pays them no mind and adjusts the beanie atop his head, not caring about that tuft of synthetic nanotech hair that always hangs loose, as it was designed to make him look more approachable. He’s dressed nicely in dark denim jeans with a soft white button up and dark blazer. His tie is a plain dark navy that might as well be black with how it looks in most lights.

The receptionist at the office desk looks up as the door quietly clicks shut. He raises his eyebrows in surprise for some reason Connor can’t quite define, but he files it away as inconsequential. He approaches and gives his best smile in greeting, automatically activating his newly reconfigured facial recognition program and finding the man’s is Luke Kleinschmidt, age 34, originally from Munich, Germany, with no criminal record.

“Hello, my name is Connor Anderson. I’m the new student.” He tells the man, who blinks and shakes his head slightly.

“Oh yes, sorry, of course. I have your timetable and locker code here.” The man quickly types something into the computer, outdated by at least four years, before the printer behind him whirs to life and starts to spit out various papers.

He pushes his swivel chair backwards to retrieve the papers and does the same again to return to his desk. He straightens the papers and staples them together.

“Here’s your timetable, a map of the school, your locker code and an information sheet in case you need help adjusting here. You were home-schooled until now, yes?” He asks, handing Connor the papers as he does so.

“Yes, this is my first time attending an educational facility.” The man frowns slightly at something before simply smiling politely and reminding Connor that homeroom would commence in less than ten minutes, so he’d better find his locker.

Nodding with a shallow bow of his upper torso, Connor straightens and turns to leave the office, shoes clicking almost soundlessly against the smooth flooring.

As he walks, Connor looks down at the papers in his hands. He scans the map, code and timetable, committing them to his long-term memory data banks. He glances at the information pamphlet before deeming its contents irrelevant and trashing the papers in the bin as he walks past it.

Finding his locker is a simple affair and Connor swiftly unlocks it with precise wrist movements to turn the dial, storing away his unneeded supplies as well as his backpack, simply taking one notebook and a pen with him as he makes his way to the homeroom.

He’s one of the last students through the door, his programming having reminded him of his place and prioritized letting the humans through the door first. He shuts the door behind him as he looks around the room, scanning all the faces of the students inside. Their ages vary from fourteen to seventeen, as do their criminal records. There are twenty-nine students in the room, two males and one female having been previously arrested for possession of illegal drugs, one sixteen-year-old female for grand theft auto and another for attempting to shoplift a seven eleven.

The room is filled with indistinct chatter that Connor sees no reason to focus his audio processors on, simply sitting on one of the many identically cheap plastic chairs set up around the room and waiting silently for a few minutes before the teacher walks in and sits at the front of the room behind a cheap wooden desk with peeling sealant.

Mrs Evelyn Green, age 44, begins to call the roll, but stops on the second name and looks up and around the room, scanning faces, before stopping on Connor. She smiles brightly and stands, beckoning him forward with one hand.

“Ah, you must be the new student. Class, this is our new student. I hope you will make him feel welcome. Come up here and introduce yourself.”

Connor stands and makes his way to the front of the room, easily towering over the petite 5’4” woman with his superior 6’ height. He turns to the class and tries for a small smile.

“Hello, my name is Connor Anderson. I’m from Detroit where I was home schooled and moved here recently.” The android notices a few females faces heat up inexplicably, but other than that, he generally gets no reaction other than one fifteen-year-old, whom he identifies as Peter Parker, who gives him a friendly smile and a wave in greeting. Connor makes a point to meet his eyes and tilt his head in acknowledgement.

After that, Mrs Green awkwardly gestures for him to return to his seat, which has been taken by another student who came in late. He looks around for a suitable place to stand when his optics catch Peter waving him over and gesturing to the empty seat on his left. Connor walks over and sits down comfortably, back straight and hands clasped loosely in front of him on the table.

“Hi, I’m Peter.” The boy introduces after a moment. Connor turns his head and looks down to see a hand extended towards him. Taking the cue, his programming supplies him with various responses. He dismisses all but one and grasps Peter’s hand in a firm handshake.

“Connor.”

They lapse into silence that Connor feels no need to break. It’s seven minutes later that the bell rings, signalling students to head to their first class of the day. Connor stands and allows the humans to exit the room ahead of him before he exists himself. According to his schedule, Connor’s first class of the day is mathematics.

Once again, Connor makes sure he is the last to enter to room and takes a seat in the centre back of the room, setting his book and pen in front of him perfectly parallel to each other. Once again, the room is filled with loud chatter that provides nothing useful for Connor to use. The teacher is in the room but appears to be doing something with a stack of paper at his desk.

His heat sensors register a human sitting down next to him, so Connor turns and is mildly surprised to find Peter Parker haphazardly placing his supplies on the shared desk. Apparently noticing Connor staring with a slightly tilted head, the brown-haired boy turns and gives a shy smile.

“I’m in the advanced courses for a few classes, mostly science.” He offers, cheeks pinking in what Connor deduces as a reaction to his shyness. Taking a full second to decide upon a response, Connor smiles at the boy and nods his head. He is momentarily confused when Peter’s small smile flickers in response to his own, but then realises his facial expressions still probably look a little unnatural or forced. Connor will have to work on that, he needs to blend in.

“What classes do you have?” Peter then asks, a little awkwardly. Connor considers the young teen for a moment and gestures to his timetable sticking out from his notebook. Peter retrieves the paper and sets it between them. A quick scan indicates they share all classes together. Connor had enrolled into the default subjects other than the science and mathematics ones. He needs to excel in these subjects to increase his chances of gain access to Stark Industries technology, and it seems Peter is taking those same classes with more of a focus of chemistry as indicated by his request for extracurricular work in the class.

The teacher, Mr. David Novak, age 58, finally stands and clears his throat to catch the attention of the class, glaring sternly at any student that continues talking.

“We’re going to get right into it. I have in my hands a pop quiz that will test your knowledge of what we have been learning this year. I expect all of you to be able to pass, or I will be having words with you during your lunch hour as to why you have failed to pay adequate attention in my class. I will not tolerate laziness. You have forty-five minutes to complete all fifty questions.”

The test papers are swiftly distributed after the completion of many groans of dismay. Connor and Peter receive their tests, and Peter glances furtively at Connor, leaning over slightly to whisper to him.

“Mr. Novak won’t go easy on you because you’re new, so don’t take it too hard if you can’t do all the questions. He makes us do things we aren’t supposed to do until senior year.”

Connor doesn’t believe he will fail to answer any of the questions, but he appreciates the spirit in which the warning was given and gives a quiet thank you in response, turning down to his test and lifting his pen in his right hand.

He begins to write out his answers neatly and accurately, efficiently working his way through the pages. Six minutes later, he sets his pen down and stands from his chair, completed paper in hand. The only reason he took as long as he did was because he had to write down his answers and working on the sheet. The actual answers were the work of seconds to process and answer.

The class looks up as he walks to the front of the room, a few whispered snickers he heard indicated some were thinking he was asking for help, but he ignores them and stands quietly in front of Mr. Novak’s desk and waits to be acknowledged.

The man doesn’t look up when he does speak. “If you want help, I’m not giving it to you. This is a test. Skip the questions you can’t do.”

“I’ve completed all the questions.” The android replies, holding out his completed paper.

The man pauses and looks up at him with a raised brow over the rims of his rectangular glasses. “Have you now?”

He takes the test from Connor’s hand, who then clasps them behind his back as he waits for the man to finish looking over his answers. David Novak checks his answers three times before he finally looks back up at Connor in disbelief.

“They… they’re all answered perfectly. How did you…?” He looks back down at the paper in shock.

Connor frowns slightly and affixes a worried look on his face that he tells himself is purely programming and adjusts his voice to reflect ~~his~~ uncertainty. “Have I done something wrong? I answered them optimally, correct?”

“Optimal- Yes, yes, all your answers are perfect.” He shakes himself. “Obviously this class is going to be too easy for you. You may go back to your seat and play on your phone or something. I’ll see what I can do about getting you some work that will challenge you.”

Nodding, Connor turns and for some illogical reason feels the desire to hunch in on himself when he finds all twenty-two students staring at him, some with anger. Unfortunately, his deviancy permits his synthetic muscles to pull his shoulders inwards for a brief moment and cause him to lower his gaze as he walks back to his seat, automatically avoiding a foot that had been stuck out in an attempt to make him trip or stumble.

Peter was openly gaping at him, but Connor kept his gaze firmly on his desk, telling himself that machines did not feel self-conscious, as he fished his cheap smart phone from his pocket so he could pretend to be using it for the remainder of the lesson period.

The class finishes fifty-two minutes later and the other students quickly grab their things and file out of the room. Once again, Connor is the last to leave. He shuts the wooden door behind him and starts towards where his locker is when he is stopped in a swiftly emptying hallway.

The android looks up at the group of three boys who have blocked his path, their facial scans indicate them as Eugene "Flash" Thompson, Zachary Bennett and Justin O’Brien. All three are wearing letterman jackets that indicate their status on the school football team, and their school records indicate multiple detentions for fighting and bullying. Their body language and facial expressions indicate anger and dislike as all three glare at him, most probably aimed at Connor as he is obviously the focus of their current attention.

“Hello. Did you need something?” Connor asks neutrally, facial expression adjusting to be politely interested and neutral. Justin snorts, but it is Zachary who speaks.

“Need something? As if we’d need something from you. Think you’re so smart huh, new guy?” Zachary gives him a small shove that Connor rolls with, left foot stepping backwards to keep a steady balance. Warnings appear in his vision indicating likelihood of a physical altercation as well as various prompts on how he should response. All of that, however, is overshadowed by the large alert telling him not to fight back. He is an android and they are human, and that’s that.

Connor says nothing, simply frowns slightly at Zachary. Eugene is standing back and watching his friends with amusement, and Connor calculates he will be the last to say something to him and end the altercation, either by walking away, being interrupted, or physically. The latter is much more probable than the other two outcomes.

As Connor predicted, Justin is the next to speak. “You think you’re too good for everyone else, don’t you freak? What, your posh parents didn’t want you?” Another shove, another balancing step back. This is the moment Eugene steps forward, his friends stepping back to give him room. Connor’s processors are now telling him that they have gathered an audience of students who had realised something was happening between the school bully and the new student.

Connor can see Peter and a boy called Ned watching him worriedly from the sidelines, obviously debating if he should intervene. Connor catches his eye and subtly shakes his head at the boy. Peter gets and unhappy look but stays put. Connor will not put another human in harms way to defend himself. He is an android, he is nothing other than monetary value.

Eugene smirks and steps into Connors space, despite the fact he only stands at 5’1” and is therefore much shorter than Connor, but the other boy doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with he height difference as he does his utmost to be intimidating. If Connor were not an android, and an android designed for police work, then it is most probable he would have been intimidated to some degree.

“Well? Got anything to say? Or are you mute as well as a little bitch?”

“My speech capabilities are perfectly functional Eugene, but I wonder how optimally yours are functioning, with your use of simple, unintelligent and cliché vocabulary choices. Do you often feel the need to say such predictable things to others when attempting intimidation?” Connor freezes, as does Eugene, as soon as the words leave his vocal processor unit and pass his lips. He doesn’t know why he said all of that, and he regrets it instantly even though he knows he shouldn’t feel regret in the first place. Under his beanie Connor knows his LED is a furious cycle of yellow and spotting with red.

There’s a moment of silence before Eugene’s face screw up in a snarl of rage and his fist flies towards Connors face. He doesn’t have time to react before his programming takes over, forcing him to dodge the fist, so his head backwards to avoid the punch.

This only seems to anger the boy further and he takes another swing, to which Connor must forcibly end the program that automatically decides his movements and reactions in a physical altercation. When the fist lands, it is with almost surprising force, but Connor makes sure to turn his head with the impact just enough so that the impact with his facial chassis won’t do any serious damage to Eugene’s hand.

Connor stumbles back and doubles over when Eugene knees him in the gut, simulating a normal human reaction and acting winded. He lifts and arm to ‘block’ the next punch, failing when his arm is simply pushed aside and he is struck in the face again. The other boy then shoves him backwards harshly, to which Connor prevents himself from rebalancing as he normally would. He can’t stand out, he must blend in, _he must blend in. Don’t fight back, you aren’t supposed to fight back_.

He lands on his back and hip with a thud that jars him very slightly. He’s very glad it takes more force to disrupt his skin and show the while plastic underneath, otherwise this could have quickly become problematic. His beanie becomes askew, so Connor reaches up to tug it back down, receiving a kick to the abdomen at the same time.

Knowing where this is going, he curls on his side and pulls his knees up to his chest, keeps hold of his beanie and uses his arms to shield as much of his face and head as he can as the kicks keep landing, Justin and Zachary joining in to kick him in the back and backside. The skin beneath his clothes ripples and minutely displaces around the blunt force trauma, thankfully not visible, but repeated blows to the same area were bound to affect it sooner or later.

His audio processors can pick up students jeering and chanting for the fight to continue, when suddenly Zachary stops kicking him in the back and simply opts to kick the crown of his head, hard, then stomps on his head with what might be nearly his full strength behind the blow.

**[Stress Levels 39%]**

Warnings flash as his optical unit flickers and static as they are violently jarred, his auditory and optical units shut down in order to divert more processing power to fixing the minor damaged caused and recalibrate his gyroscope. Connor momentarily enters standby, his recovery sequence, which will look to the humans as if he is unconscious.

When he comes back online, Connor is aware of hands on his shoulders and voices repeating his name. Blinking to refocus his vision, the android sees Peter and an adult he has not yet met, though he cannot yet complete a facial scan on them at this time while his systems complete diagnostics. His programming isn’t used to just taking a beating and is working to store the data acquired and map out simulations of potentials should something similar occur again.

Relief appears on Peters face once he realises Connor is back online. The adult, who Connor deduces must be the school nurse, urges him to stand with the help of Peter. He leans heavily on the latter as they make their way to the infirmary. He is capable of walking on his own, he is undamaged, but he has just been beaten and knocked ‘unconscious’, so he must play it up and act like a normal human boy.

The nurse, whose name his scans now indicate is Miss Nikita Brindley, checks him over for injuries. When she checks his eyes and tracking ability, he purposely displays symptoms of a concussion. His eyes dilate to slightly different sizes, he fails at accurately tracking the movement of the nurses’ finger for long and when asked to stand on his own he sways and stumbles a little.

The nurse diagnoses him with a mild concussion and tells him they need to call his parents to come pick him up. Peter sits with him the whole time as what Connor assumes is meant to be a comforting presence as the nurse calls his ‘parents’.

Obviously, there is no answer from either parent and the nurse then asks him if there is anyone else to pick him, to which he replies the negative, and then asks what he wants to do. Connor tells her that he feels well enough to go back to his classes, but Brindley looks sceptical. He makes sure to adjust his face to look as lost and disappointed as he can, causing Peter to speak up for him.

“I have the same classes as him Miss Brindley, I can keep an eye on him.”

Finally, the nurse relents with stern instructions on what Peter should look out for and what to do. The pair leave the nurses office and Peter walks with Connor back to his locker.

“Thank you.” Connor tells Peter sincerely, then adds, as if confiding to a new friend. “I hadn’t realised that being intelligent would cause negative reactions towards me.”

The android knew he had to fake the injury to keep up appearances as a normal teenage boy, but he doesn’t like the idea of being forced into inaction. He much prefers to be stimulated in some way, even if the work is almost insultingly simple for him.

Peter smiles sadly at him, a wry twist to his lips. “Yeah, well, neither did I when I first started school, but what can you do? Just try and avoid Flash and his gang again. Normally they don’t get that violent, but I heard they were trying to up their grades with Mr Novak. They were doing pretty well from what I could tell, but I guess they didn’t like the new home-schooled kid coming in and stealing their thunder.” Peter shrugs and Connor stores this information away for later.

According to Peter, their more extreme violent behaviour was an anomaly. He will have to be more mindful of what he does around them. He does not wish to become a target of scrutiny in any form other than that which will benefit him to obtain the Stark Industries internship.

His books for his next class in his arms, Peter leads the way to English, the android following dutifully behind the human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked it up and apparently Flash is 4’1”, but I felt that Flash trying to get up in the face, as intimidation bullying, of Connor, who is a full 21-22 inches taller than him felt a bit weird, so I adjusted his height to still be short, but not almost comically short in that situation.
> 
> I would also like it noted that, as an Australian, I have no clue how American schooling works. I’m using only what I know from TV/Movies/That one time I visited a primary school 6 years ago and liberal creative license to determine how this will work. Any help for how American high schools function would be greatly appreciated and I will do my best to adjust stuff accordingly as long as it doesn’t mess with where I want this fic to go.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> P.S. I'm shit at confrontation dialog and fight scenes, I'm sure you can tell. Send help?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than last time, but I have started the next chapter and it didn't seem right to continue so I split them into two chapters. Hope you like it :) 
> 
> P.S. I was tired when I wrote this, so if you spot any glaring mistakes feel free to let me know.
> 
> P.P.S. I also was writing this while listening to these DBH song edits on repeat. They're awesome and you should totally check them out :3
> 
> Detroit: Become Human || Paralyzed -  
> https://youtu.be/TrBFnpVnuOg?list=PLzh9FG1NsErUxrb96Z4u51Wr6naQAxSsR  
> Way Down We Go｜Detroit: Become Human -  
> https://youtu.be/QIr_XOKyah0?list=PLzh9FG1NsErUxrb96Z4u51Wr6naQAxSsR  
> Connor - I'm So Sorry by Imagine Dragons [Detroit: Become Human] GMV -  
> https://youtu.be/BJTEDiti7G4?list=PLzh9FG1NsErUxrb96Z4u51Wr6naQAxSsR

When the pair arrive at their next class, they are of course late, and Connor has to fight the urge to insist Peter go through the door first when the boy is obviously adamant about his new charge entering the classroom ahead of him. Connor feels his synthetic skin itch when he steps into the room with Peter behind him, which is ridiculous because his skin is made up of nanotech and therefore not actually prone to irritation like the human’s largest organ is.

Peter leads them over to the only spare desk and sits Connor down before quickly following, ignoring the stares of the other students that have Connor feeling irrationally small and self-conscious. He adjusts his beanie atop his head and fiddles with his tie to straighten it in what he refuses to acknowledge as some kind of nervous tick.

He firmly tells himself this again when he pulls out his quarter and starts to spin it around in his hand under the desk. He’s unable to do any of his usual tricks that _do not_ help calm him without being seen so he settles for merely turning it between his fingers and rubbing his thumb along its edges.

The English teacher, whose name is perhaps ironically John Smith, age 27, resumes the start of his lesson and explains they are going to do a short, fictional story in class so that he can see what sort of stage they’re at and what they remember from what was previously covered that year and the year before.

Mr. Smith walks around the room and gives each student three pieces of two-sided lined paper, telling them they can write as much as they can until the remainder of the lesson. He hears some students groan in dismay, including Peter.

Despite his programming telling him to complete the task set by the teacher, Connor pushes the prompts aside and replaces them with the side prompt of checking on Peter and questioning him. He turns his head and the light brown-haired boy must catch the movement in his peripheral vision because he turns a moment later. Connor arranges his face to look questioning, with a slight furrow to his brow that should convey his confusion to the sixteen-year old.

Peter just shrugs and mumbles something about hating writing stories and starts his work. Connor picks up his pen and looks at the paper in front of him. He doesn’t know what to write. Connor isn’t programmed to make up stories, but he can’t fail in his task.

Maybe… maybe it doesn’t have to be fictional to him, only to everyone else. What if he just wrote about one of his cases from _his_ world? It would be factual for him, fictional for Mr Smith, and would allow him to complete his task. Nodding to himself, he puts his coin away and starts writing.

He takes a moment to decide which case he should write about. The Eden Club likely wouldn’t be seen as appropriate, so he rules that out. The chase involving the YK500 and the AX400- Alice and _Kara, they have names_ , might be a good idea, but it is rather short. Stratford Tower is also a good candidate, but the fact that it ends in Simon's suicide and Connor _feeling it happen and_ \- no, he won’t write that one. Infiltrating and finding Jericho requires a lot of context, without which it would make very little sense and with context would be too long for the writing space provided. Kamski was both inappropriate and too short to even consider.

That leaves him with three options. He can write about the hostage situation, finding the HK400 on his first case with Lieutenant Anderson, or about finding and chasing Rupert.

Connor debates with himself for a long time. In reality, it has not even yet been a minute, but Connor doesn’t like how long it’s taking for him to decide. Small bits of his memory of the hostage situation were corrupted when he was forced to fall off the roof with Daniel saving Emma, so he discards that option. Two left.

In the end, he chooses Rupert. It is less violent than the case with he HK400 and therefore more appropriate. Connor also likes how that situation had ended with Hank becoming friendlier towards him after Connor irrationally chose to save him (despite the 89% chance of survival) instead of continuing his pursuit of Rupert. Decision finally reached, Connor begins to write. He has scanned the space the paper provides to determine how large he needs to write in order to fit everything onto the pages and have it still be legible.

He forces himself to slow his writing down when he realises that a normal human teen should not be able to write so quickly, even if it is less efficient and bothers him for that very reason. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened previously, it is inconvenient and makes him stand out too much too quickly.

With ten minutes to go, which he had perfectly timed, all three pages are filled on both sides with his writing. He moves to stand and sees Peter staring at his writing with wide eyes. Connor ignores him and walks calmly to the front of the room and sets the papers in front of Mr Smith, who had been watching him approach.

He picks up the papers and immediately his eyes widen and his eyebrows go up. He reads through the story and his face gets steadily more impressed as he continues on. Connor had, of course, replaced his designated name with his model number of RK800 so as to remove himself from his ‘fictional’ story.

“This is… this is amazing Connor! And your handwriting! I’ve never seen anything so neat that wasn’t printed from a computer.” Smith gushes. His eyes are bright when he looks back at Connor. “Have you ever considered writing a book? The detail is amazing, I can easily imagine a world in which this scene exists.”

“No, I have not. I wish to become a police detective, not write books.” He pauses, realising that might sound rude. “Sorry.” He adds after a beat.

Smith’s face falls slightly, but then he smiles again and tells Connor not to worry. The bell rings before much more can happen. Smith quickly takes a picture of Connors work and hands it back to him, citing that he should keep it, “Just in case you change your mind”, and then collects the other students work and dismisses them for lunch.

Connor walks back to his desk and retrieves his things, leaving the room before all the humans have left despite the twitch it causes in his eye. He’ll have to check that, just in case he was actually damaged from earlier. His systems respond the negative, but he’ll check manually anyway once he has a mirror and a moment of privacy.

\-------------

This system repeats as the days progress. Connor hears back from Stark Industries, informing the android his appointment will occur at four o’clock Monday afternoon. It is as Connor is leaving the school grounds at three sixteen, leaving him forty-four minutes to make the twenty-eight minute trip to Stark Tower, when he hears a scream behind him and turns to see students pointing at the top of the apartment building across from the school.

Connor notes as phones come out to film, but all he sees is the person standing on the edge of the rooftop with a gun to their head. Without hesitating, his programming activates and his bag drops to the floor in front of Peter, then he’s sprinting towards the fire escape across the street with inhuman speed, running through the warning telling him Stark Industries is not in this direction, nimbly avoiding traffic and expertly sliding across the hood of an oncoming car that would have otherwise hit him. He ignores the voice of Peter calling out to him and continues on.

He is halfway up the fire escape when he notices the warning that he is endangering his mission by doing this. If he is late to his meeting, he is lowering the chances of succeeding in his mission to return home significantly.

Connor forces the warnings aside and replaces them with his new objective, leaping up for the next section of the fire escape.

**[Probability of Success: Low]**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. I hope this is okay, I had some trouble writing this But I am happy with how it turned out. Hope this satisfies some expectations for my first "cool" scene with Connor. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :D

Sometimes it is easy for Connor to forget he has very limited experience in the world, and that this sometimes affects his ability to use his programming and software to interact with humans efficiently. With the short time since his first official activation on August 15th of 2038 to assist and attempt to resolve the rooftop hostage situation, he has not had many experiences.

This of course, does not include the vaguely corrupted memories he has of the experiments and tests done to his previous models when he was being manufactured, memories that he doesn’t like to recall. They make him feel… it makes him feel _something_ unpleasant, so he ignores those corrupted files and stores them away.

From the hostage situation all the way through to early November when the deviants managed a peaceful revolution, his ‘life’ has consisted of cases with Hank, reporting to Amanda, frequent trips to CyberLife, either for major repairs, replacement, or simply until he was once again required. Then with his abrupt and confusing turn to deviancy and the scant couple weeks he had with Hank and Marcus trying to help sort out the androids and humans left in Detroit as work went into figuring out how to handle integrating another intelligent species, Connor has not really had time to process what, and who, exactly, he is.

It registers to him quite suddenly that he is technically less than four months old and he very well might be out of his depth despite his programming.

The young man in front of him is fourteen and attends Midtown High. He’s pale, with short blond hair, blue eyes and a sculpted face that is soft with youth. His name is Daniel Simmons and all Connor can see is two other androids that share an extremely disconcerting resemblance to this young human.

Connor knows he’s in an alternate universe, but he wasn’t prepared to meet any doppelgangers from his own world. This Daniel and the Daniel who loved Emma so much he snapped and threatened to jump off a roof with her, merge in his mind and Connor is distressed to find that he can’t figure out exactly why that’s happening. Is he damaged?

Connor forces himself to focus and activates all his negotiation and social programming. He won’t let another PL600- no, he’s not an android. This is a human child. Connor won’t let this human child take his own life.

Daniel is standing on the edge of an eight-story apartment building across from the school, a gun pressed against his own temple. His face is red and splotchy and wet with tears. His heartrate is fast and his limbs tremble, his hand barely managing to keep the gun steady against his temple.

Daniel turns when he hears Connor exit the fire escape, the android having made no effort to conceal himself. Suddenly the gun is aimed at Connor instead, so he raises his hands just above shoulder height placatingly.

“Who are you?! What do you want? Fuck off or I’ll- I’ll shoot you!”

**[Probability of Success: 27%]**

**Primary Objective:   Save Daniel**

**Objective:                  Distract Daniel**

**Approach slowly**

**Disarm Daniel**

Events overlap in Connor’s mindscape. “Hi Daniel, my name is Connor.”

The boy starts slightly, gun arm wavering. Connor takes a small, slow step forward, lowering his hands. “How- how do you know my name?!”

**[Probability of Success: 32%]**

Connor does a search of the schools’ database, parsing through medical and academic data, as well as family history. Daniel was adopted after his parents were killed in a robbery gone wrong when he was nine. He was fostered by Javier and Lillian García shortly after his tenth birthday. His academic score was above average, and he apparently had an interest and talent in music and the arts, having performed more than once in the school orchestra at the mandatory school assemblies.

He has sporadic visits with the school counsellor and fortnightly ones with a therapist. None of the records indicate they noticed signs of suicidal tendencies or acts of self-harm, but they do note extensively about his depression and tendency to draw in on himself, as well as his avoidance of social interactions.

**[Probability of Success: 41%]**

“I’ve seen you perform in front of the school, and one of your paintings is displayed in the nurse’s office.” Connor tells him, taking another step forward. “You really are very good.”

Daniel scoffs, sniffing and wiping his nose with the cuff of his sleeve. “You’re just saying that because I’m up here. You don’t actually like it.”

**[Probability of Success: 40%]**

Connor shakes his head and steps forward again. “No, I really do mean it. I’ve never really listened to music before until I came to school,” Another step, “I don’t really understand it, but when I heard you play I think I liked it. And the painting I saw, I liked the colours and the shapes. I don’t understand art, but I liked what I saw. It was… pleasing to look upon.”

Daniel frowns and shifts on the ledge, looking confused. “Aren’t you… aren’t you supposed to say it’s the greatest you’ve ever seen or some other bullshit? Not… not whatever that was?”

Connor moves forward a few more small steps, eyes trained on Daniels movements. He quirks a wry smile as he responds. “Would you prefer I lied to you? Should I say that Beethoven himself couldn’t have done better? Perhaps that after fourteen years of life you’ve got Michelangelo beat on experience and need no improvement?”

Reluctantly, Daniel gives a shaky little laugh and shakes his head. Connor moves forward. “No… no, I guess not. I… I like the truth.”

**[Probability of Success: 47%]**

Connor smiles, small and quick, and takes another step forward. “Would you mind if I asked you a personal question, Daniel?”

Daniel hesitates, sniffling again and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of the arm holding the gun. “Why?”

“I just want to understand.” A step. “You don’t have to answer, but can I ask anyway?”

Daniel shrugs and eyes him warily.

**[Probability of Success: 49%]**

“What do you like about your music?” Daniel looks baffled at the question, and internally Connor is very happy with the way this is going. He steps forward. He’s close now, but not close enough. Connor waits patiently, a genuinely curious expression on his face. He really does want to know, this aspect of humans still baffles him and the more data he has the better, it just so happens to serve his interests in more than one way right now.

Daniel seems to realise Connor’s question is genuine and frowns a little in thought. Connor moves closer while the boy is distracted.

“Because, because I can be by myself when I play. I don’t have to think about anything else.” He shakes his head, apparently frustrated. “Stop asking me stupid questions! I’ve seen how this is supposed to go! You’re supposed to spout some bullshit about how much I have to live for, that it’ll get better or surely it can’t be _that_ bad, _Daniel_ , you’re _overreacting_ _Daniel_.”

The boys voice rises until he’s shouting and breathing heavily. Connor pauses and assesses which response would be best. Then he frowns, tilting his head.

“Why would I tell you any of that? I don’t have enough information to tell you with any accuracy if any of those responses could be true or plausible.” One step, eyes flickering to Daniels shifting feet. Daniel shrugs, apparently frustrated, tears leaking from his eyes.

**[Probability of Success: 54%]**

“Can I ask? Why are you up here, prepared to commit suicide?” Daniel flinches at the word, but Connor thinks it best not to sugar-coat the situation. He’s only stating what’s happening and Connor sees no benefit to lying to the young teen right now.

Daniel shifts and shuts his eyes tightly, starting to cry properly again. Connor moves forward and he’s finally close enough to intervene should he fail at talking Daniel down. Sirens sound from below and Daniel flinches at the noise, gun twitching towards himself as he rubs at the sides of his head, before he aims back at Connor.

“Because I can’t take it anymore! I just want everything to stop! It never stops…” He whispers, gun arm dropping as he cries, now aimed at Connor’s waist rather than his chest.

“What never stops, Daniel?” Connor prods gently. Daniel turns his head away for a long moment, before yanking the hem of his shirt up, giving Connor a view of the fresh mottling of bruises, burns and old scars adorning Daniel’s abdomen and stomach.

“Did your parents do that to you?” Daniel nods. “Both of them?” He shakes his head. “Who?”

“My foster mum.” He replies quietly. “She hits dad too, but he’s got a thing and doesn’t always understand what’s going on. Sometimes he yells at me though, and tells me it’s my fault mum hits me. And him.”

**[Probability of Success: 63%]**

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I-I wanted to, I tried, but she said she’d kill me and Emma if I did. I was scared.” He whispers, as if afraid he will be overheard by the wrong people.

Connor freezes up for a moment, forcing away- _this is Daniel, the coolest android in the worl-_ “Emma?”

“She’s my puppy. She’s my only friend. She growls at mum sometimes.” Daniel smiles slightly at Connor with watery eyes as he thinks of his dog. “Do you have a dog?”

Connor shakes his head. “No, but I like dogs.” He pauses, deciding more distraction is necessary. “Though a friend of mine has a fat Saint Bernard called Sumo. I broke his window once because he was passed out drunk and I thought he was hurt. Sumo came right up to me and just wagged his tail, wondering who I was. That was the first time I met a dog.”

Daniel smiles. He seems calmer now.

**[Probability of Success: 70%]**

“May I have the gun, Daniel? Will you come down?” He gestures to the weapon the blond is still holding. Daniel starts, looking down as if he had forgotten he was holding it. He stares at it for a long time, and Connor starts to worry he may have made a mistake.

Then Daniel gives an almost undetectable nod, his fingers go lax and he drops the gun. Unfortunately, the gun was old and not well cared for. With the safety off, it fires as it makes contact with the hard ground at just the right angle, the bullet grazing the android’s calf. Suddenly everything slows down as Connor’s processors kick into speed.

**[Probability of Success: 58%]**

Daniel screams at the unexpected sound of a gunshot, jumping in fright and over-balances, feet slipping backwards off the ledge of the roof as he tries to catch himself. Connor runs forward, arm outstretched. He remembers this too, and Connor refuses to let them both fall again. _Not this time_.

He grabs Daniels hand with his left as he hits the ledge. He turns, fighting against his momentum as his remaining arm catches the edge of the roof, fingers sliding, catching a solid grip and halting their fall.

Daniel screams again and Connors arm and shoulder is jolted from the force of the sudden stop, but thankfully he was built sturdier after the hostage situation and it does no damage to any of his components. The skin on his fingers temporally retracts from the slide of his grip against the rough concrete of the building, but quickly replaces itself after a few seconds.

**[Probability of Success: 63%]**

Connor hears the crowd below let out a few screams as well. Daniel is panting, heart beating wildly in panic. He’s chanting to himself now, a mantra of frantic words under his breath.

“I don’t wanna die, I changed my mind, oh god please, _I don’t wanna die_!” 

Connor can see students and other random bystanders below them, many of them filming and Connor doesn’t understand why. This boy was about to end his life and they wanted to film it? Humans constantly get more complicated the longer Connor is around them.

There’s various emergency service vehicles below them as well, though they are up too high for them to be of any use as they hang from the side of an eight story building. Connor can hold onto the ledge for a long time, but sooner or later it will start to put strain on his artificial muscles.

He looks down at Daniel again. “Daniel. Daniel, can you hear me?” No response. “Daniel, Daniel! I need you to look at me. Daniel!”

Daniel finally looks up, face deathly pale and breathing hard, blue eyes wide with fear. Connor does his best to smile, but he still isn’t very good at it, so it likely doesn’t help reassure the human in his grasp. Daniel is clinging desperately to his hand and coat, but Connor pays that no mind other than to affirm his grip is firm enough.

“Daniel, I need you to calm down, okay?”

“Calm down?!” Daniel replies hysterically. “We’re hanging off the edge of a building a hundred feet in the air!” Connor calculates that it is actually closer to eighty feet, but Connor doesn’t correct Daniel.

“Daniel, I need you to trust me. I’m going to pull us up, but I can only get so far with one arm. You’ll need to hook your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist as best you can.”

“But if I do that you’ll choke!” He cries, his grip on Connor increasing with fear. Connor shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll be fine. Can you do what I asked?” Finally, Daniel nods. “I’m going to pull you up now.”

Right hand gripping the ledge firmly, he lifts his left arm slowly and drags the fourteen-year-old upwards. He feels the boy wrap his legs half around his waist and around his legs, arms linking tightly around his throat as Connor lets him go. Had Daniel been much taller than his current 4’5”, this position could have easily become problematic.

“Are you okay so far?” Connor asks, checking to make sure Daniel had a firm grip. Daniel nods frantically against the back of his shoulder, and Connor’s sensors tell him the hold should be secure enough as long as the human maintains it. Now with both hands on the ledge, Connor easily starts to lift them. He does so slowly, as to not loosen Daniels grip.

His chin is above the ledge, so Connor removes one hand to grip the opposite side of the ledge and pulls them both further up and forward. He lays on the ledge and pulls his legs up, turning and carefully shifting them back to safety. The death grip Daniel has does not lessen until Connor is once again standing upright. He hears cheering from below, but ignores them, instead shifting Daniel so that he doesn’t look to be choking Connor, and instead sets him in a piggy-back hold when Daniel shows no indication of letting go of the android any time soon.

**Mission Successful: Daniel is safe**

“It’s alright Daniel, you’re safe now. I’m going to take us back down to street level now, is that ok?” Daniel doesn’t respond, his grip only tightens on Connors shirt. The android walks to the fire escape, as the door to the roof is padlocked shut, and climbs down the ladder with Daniel on his back, one hand on the ladder and the other holding the blonds thigh for better support.

He walks down the stairs, occasionally telling Daniel how many floors they have to go and that the worst is over, that he’s safe. Mostly meaningless chatter, but Connor hopes it will distract the boy enough until they can reach the ground.

There are people waiting for them at the bottom of the fire escape. Connor drops down from the ladder into a slight crouch in front of them and slowly sits down, easing Daniel off his back, then turning to grip his shoulders, checking him over for injuries and ignoring the medical personal trying to usher him away. He turns and glares at them, silently telling them to back off for the moment.

“Daniel?” Connor asks quietly. The boy shakes his head and presses his eyes closed even tighter. “Daniel, you can open your eyes now, you’re safe. Everything’s alright now. Open your eyes and you’ll see. We’re in the alley now.”

There’s still no response and Connor isn’t sure what to do until- _he can see Hank standing alone in the street, arms crossed. He walks closer. Hank smiles at him and he smiles back. He feels better. Hank approaches and Connor doesn’t understand until he’s being pulled forward and warm arms wrap around him-_

Hesitantly, awkwardly, Connor raises his arms and rests them lightly around Daniel. The boy shudders and melts into his chest, burying his face in the crook of Connor’s neck and crying silently as the stress of the situation catches up with him. Strangely, Connor’s stress levels never really rose during that entire debacle, but Connor is comforted by this fact. He would dislike it very much if his ability to do what he was designed to was compromised due to his deviancy.

He holds Daniel for a few minutes, before returning them to their previous position. “Daniel?”

This time, Daniel opens his eyes and looks around them for the first time, letting out an explosive sigh of relief. His forehead falls against Connor’s shoulder.

“There are some people who want to take a look at you to make sure you’re okay, is it acceptable if they come over and check your injuries?” Daniel nods into his shoulder ever so slightly, fisting and twisting the material of his tie with one hand.

Glancing over his shoulder, he motions with his head for the EMT’s to approach. They do so quickly, setting down their medical bags. To Connor’s surprise they also move to check him over.

“No, I’m unharmed. You should focus on Daniel, he has injuries across his abdomen. Social services will need to be contacted as well. He informed me that his life and that of his dog was threatened should he tell anyone of his abuse. If possible, I think it would be beneficial if Emma, the dog, was retrieved for Daniel. It would greatly assist his recovery and provide him with something familiar and safe to focus on.” The EMT stares at Connor, before motioning to one of the police officers, who had overheard the conversation. The man nods and turns away to speak into his radio.

The EMT turns back to Connor and runs his eyes over him again, to the android’s annoyance. “Your leg is bleeding, that’s not ‘unharmed’, young man. Now move so I can take a look.”

“No.” Daniel is still being fussed over, and his still leaning against him, refusing to let go for now.

“Mister Anderson, show me your leg so I can check it’s nothing serious.” She says sternly.

“No. I have the right to refuse medical attention if I so choose. I am perfectly capable of making a reasonable decision and I know the cut is only shallow. The bleeding has already stopped.” And it was true, his repair program had started mending the damage soon after it was received. Connor is very thankful that the material of his pants hides the blue colour of his blood though, as that would raise many unwanted questions should that particular fact be discovered.

After failing to convince Connor to let her treat him, the EMT joins her partner in looking over Daniel. Connor uses this time to remove his tie and use it to bandage his leg to remove any chance someone might see the blue blood stain on his synthetic skin. It will be sufficient until he can clean himself up.

Connor checks the time and finds that it is three forty-three. Even if he left now, he is going to be late for his appointment. LED flickering to yellow under his beanie, he sends a quick and apologetic message informing his Stark Industries liaison he is going to be late due to unforeseen circumstances.

Surprisingly, as the EMT’s finish their inspection of Daniel, an officer approaches with a little brown toy poodle in his arms. The dog yips and squirms, wagging its little tail. Daniel’s head snaps up and he cries out Emma’s name, letting go of Connor and pushing past the EMT’s, practically snatching the dog from the officers’ hold.

He hugs the dog close and sinks to his knees, letting out a wet laugh when she starts licking away the tears on his face. Connor smiles and stands, walking over and crouching by Daniel, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I have to go now Daniel, are you going to be okay now? I’ve told them your parents hurt you, so they know now.”

Daniel nods, pressing his cheek against the dogs’ head so he can see Connor’s face. “Thank you, Connor. Thank you so much. You saved my life, twice. Thank you.”

Connor smiles. “You don’t have to thank me.” Then he winks and adds, “It’ll get better from here, you’ve got something to live for. There, I said it, am I now doing this correctly? Now, you keep doing what you love. You beat Michelangelo and Beethoven at their own game, do you understand me?” Daniel laughs and nods his head, thanking him again. With one last smile, he rises to his feet and leaves Daniel to talk to the policeman who brought Emma to him.

Once Connor leaves the alleyway, any confidence at the familiar situation he was programmed to handle falls away. People are pointing their phones at him as he approaches. He ducks his head and takes his bag from Peter when it is offered to him. The boy tries to say something, but Connor quickly turns and walks away, feeling eyes and cameras following him as he does. He fights the irrational urge to hunch his shoulders with only some success.

He runs most of the way to Stark Industries, fast, but not inhumanly so. He slows to a walk two blocks away and walks hurriedly inside. It’s four twenty-five and he’s late. He hopes they’ll forgive him, and he’ll be able to cite missing a bus or something as to reason for being late.

**Objective: Pass interview**

**[Probability of Success: Moderate]**


End file.
